


the blanket of your words

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Children, F/F, F/M, Revisionist Fairy Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka and HG take the lead on a mission, and Pete and Claudia are left to baby-sit the children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the blanket of your words

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by butterfly_z, this is a story within a story about Myka and HG. It co-opts the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale “The Story of a Mother” with a Warehouse 13 twist or two.

Myka stared upwards with grim determination. "I can't believe I--"

"Forgot the grappler?" Helena slipped her arm around Myka's waist and launched the hook up and out of their current predicament.

"Apparently, I'm not safe on my own any more. Going batty in my old age," Myka admitted to her wife when they had reached safety, artifact in purple-gloved hand.

Helena kissed her soundly. " _Your_ old age? I should be wild with dementia by now." With a flourish, she whipped out a container for Myka to drop the tome into. Recited pages had caused people all over the West coast to turn into some animal manifestation of their inner psyche, and now, with a few purple sparks, the work of Kafka's _Metamorphosis_ , first edition, was undone.

Myka snapped off her gloves and cupped Helena's chin with her bare fingers. "Good thing you've got the soundest mind I know."

"And I see you still know how to make a girl blush."

"I can certainly try."

\--

"I rather think we should have a story before bed, don't you, Ellie?" Jonathan stretched out his footy-pajama-clad feet towards his younger sister, who frankly, looked far too sleepy for anything with a decent plot line. Her curly hair sprung up every which way as it dried from her bath.

"A story?" Pete asked, before the younger child could egg her brother on. "Pretty sure you had enough stories over dinner." Jonathan had just completed his second week of kindergarten, and was full to bursting with new knowledge; the sort of thing that came from being around children his own age who didn't know, yet, to make fun of his come-and-go British accent. Over fish sticks and macaroni & cheese, he had regaled Pete and Claudia with the story of how a butterfly comes to be. Ellie was far more entertained by the way her food looked smashed under her plate.

Claudia rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Pete. This is an important moment in a kid's life. Moms are away, two attractive role models at full attention. Just one won't hurt."

Hearing the word 'attractive' Pete raised an eyebrow, smirking in Claudia's direction. Until she punched him in the side.

"Just one!" cheered Ellie, perking up and throwing the comforter back.

"Momma _always_ tells us a story or two before bed. We've got books right here!" Jonathan gestured enthusiastically towards the bedside shelf, packed with books ranging from simple picture books (more Ellie's speed) to beginner chapter books (Claudia had seen Jonathan reading those on his own, or at least pretending to) to more complicated classic stories like _The Wizard of Oz_ and _Mary Poppins_. Claudia turned to Pete, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you know, I'm the oldest here," Pete waited for Jonathan's solemn nod of acknowledgment. "And that means I make the decisions."

"Like Mother does," Jonathan confirmed with a nod.

"Like Ma," Ellie agreed, leaning with a heavy head kept awake with enthusiasm against her brother.

Claudia grinned, wondering if Helena knew she was well-known around her household for being the old one. She wondered, too, how much Myka and H.G. had actually told their children. Jonathan and Ellie knew about the warehouse, that their mothers worked for the government, collecting artifacts "like Indiana Jones," Myka had explained once, after Jonathan's first viewing of the film. But about Helena's past. About _H.G._ (Claudia noticed a copy of _The Time Machine_ on the childrens' shelf) and her long, painful history. She had no idea.

Meanwhile, Pete was drawing out his moment of power, pulling a face and watching Jonathan grow more and more concerned. Ellie looked sleepy, mostly. Suddenly, Pete broke his facade, clapping Jonathan on the shoulder. "And my decision is: Story time!"

"Story time!" Ellie echoed, blinking heavily against the excitement.

"Alright!" Claudia cheered, smiling quickly in Pete's direction before scooting between the two children. "What kind of story?"

"A scary one," said Jonathan, seriously.

Pete looked dubiously at Ellie, flicking his gaze back to Claudia. "I'm not so sure about th--"

"Scary funny or scary sad?"

"Sad!" shouted Ellie, probably confused about the context of the word.

Claudia tucked her arms around the children and settled back against the pillows. She looked briefly towards the bookcase, shook her head. "Sad it is."  
   
\--  
   
Once, a very long time ago, there lived a beautiful woman. A lot of stories start with that, with a beautiful woman, but this woman was truly beautiful. She lived alone, at the time, with her daughter who was also beautiful and very, very sick.  
   
The woman, who was really a good mother, despite some evidence that comes later -- no, not that evidence you idiot--, looked after her daughter night and day. It was super tiring, and the woman got very sleepy. She closed her eyes for only a moment, and when she opened them, her daughter was gone.  
   
She'd left the window open, you see, and Death snuck in.  
   
\--  
   
"Death?" Ellie asked, though she was so heavy against Claudia that she was probably just repeating the sounds in her sleep.  
   
"Our windows have special protection against guys like Death. You know, the dude with the cowl and the scythe?"  
   
Jonathan shook his head.  
   
"Well, whatever. He's scary, and he can't get in here."  
   
\--  
   
The women left her eyes closed for only a moment and--  
   
\--  
   
"You already said that part!"  
   
Pete stretched on the floor, touching his toes. "Interrupters don't get bedtime stories," he said in an ominous tone, his eyes bright.  
   
Jonathan smooshed his hands across his mouth. The better to keep interruptions in, Claudia supposed, and smiled.  
   
\--

The woman rushed into the street, and seeing her brother (who didn't know much, but knew some things) asked him quickly which way Death had gone with her daughter. He pointed to the forest, not saying a word.

The wind blew up, almost knocking the woman off of her feet. And you know how sometimes the wind sounds like it's talking? Well, this wind was. It told the woman that if she really wanted her daughter back, she'd sing every lullaby she'd ever sung, and the wind would show her the way to go.

So, she started singing, and the wind tugged and pushed her into the forest.

There, a thorn bush piped up, telling her that it would show her the rest of the way, but only if she wanted her daughter badly enough to embrace it, cutting herself with a thousand tiny thorns, like this:

\--

Claudia pinched Jonathan quickly on the arm for added realism.

"Hey!" he yelped, and wiggled, grinning against his baby-sitter.

"Need an illustration, Lattimer?"

"I'm good, _Donovan_."

\--

Now the woman was deep in the woods and she came across a lake. She needed to get across, but the lake wouldn't let her cross without a payment -- her eyes. Desperate, the woman cried them out.

\--

"For real? That's gross!" Jonathan cried out, apparently forgetting the interruption rule.

\--

Now blind and still determined to find her daughter, the woman crossed the water. She could smell Death everywhere -- he had planted the daughter into a garden where she would grow only for him with the rest of the children he had stolen.

The woman listened closely to the sound of Death's breathing, and then picked out the sound of her daughter's heartbeat -- th-thump, th-thump -- as she had heard a thousand times before, holding her close.

Despite knowing she was close, the woman couldn't find her daughter. She didn't know what else to do, so the woman put up her hands to get Death's attention. "If you don't return my daughter, I'll kill all of your children!" the woman shouted, her voice cracking.

\--

"Ah," Pete sighed sadly. "I think I know this one." Claudia paused, watching his face for a moment. She remembered keenly the shadows there, and was glad that these days they didn't show up often.

\--

Knowing he had already won, Death handed the woman back her eyes so she could see that her daughter was nowhere to be found, that she had threatened the innocent children for no purpose. It was too late.

"You have lost your daughter," Death said, "but not without courageous fight. Here--" and he spread his arms, making a reflection out of the air.

\--

Claudia added, in her normal voice: "Death can do things like that."

\--

And she looked inside. She saw two women, one filled with sadness and one filled with light.

"You may have lost your daughter," Death said, "but you will find love again. But the length and the breadth of your sadness will only be paid back in kind," he warned, "if you do not learn to live with your loss."

"I will never accept it," the woman cried, still aching to hold her daughter.

And so, Death took her into his garden where she slept for a thousand years.

\--

Claudia exhaled and ran her fingers through Jonathan's fine hair. "This isn't very scary," he whispered, teetering on the edge of sleep.

"Where'd you pick up such a," Pete cleared his throat inelegantly, "an _effed up_ story like that, Claud?"

"Hans Christian Andersen," she answered quickly. "And, well, some other things thrown in." But of course, Pete seemed to know that part already.

Nesting in Claudia's lap, Jonathan murmured, "Will the mother ever wake up?"

"I was just getting to that part."

\--

"What do you think they're doing now?"

Myka smiled against Helena's neck. "We're going to spend one of our few, prized, nights away together," she said, placing equal emphasis on each modifier, "thinking about the children?"

Helena laughed -- Myka could feel her smile. "Naturally. What else are mothers good for?"

"It's a good thing I know you're joking, or you'd be in for a serious lesson in feminism."

"I'd take a serious lesson in bed, if you're offering."

Myka's face softened, her eyes alight. "Always."

And so they stepped away from the window of the hotel room, closing one curtain each. Helena's hands went to unbutton her vest, but Myka stopped her with a touch. "You still drive me crazy, you know."

"Well," Helena answered, obviously pleased, "I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't."

"So, I should probably thank you for remembering the grappler, mm."

"I do believe in positive reinforcement."

\--

So, the woman woke up and despite not knowing much about the new world she now lived in, managed to find the other woman in the vision Death had shown her. She still missed her daughter, of course, but the light filled up all of her shadows.

Happily ever after. All that jazz.

\--

Claudia adjusted herself so that Jonathan wouldn't wake up as she slid off the bed and tucked him in. He had a pretty good grasp of reality, as it were, so she wasn't too concerned about nightmares. It was too late for that anyway.

She smiled in Pete's direction, who arched an eyebrow. "She'll sleep better in her own bed," Claudia answered his silent question, moving her hand slowly through Ellie's curls. "I'll escort you if you do the heavy lifting."

"Not a problem!" Pete boomed, before remembering to lower his voice. He looked sheepish, but was gentle as he leaned down to ease Ellie into his arms. As he stepped out into the hallway, Claudia turned off Jonathan's lamp, making sure that his night light flicked on in response. She left the door ajar and slipped past Pete in the hallway to make way for Ellie.

Once Ellie was tucked in bed, they stepped back into the hall. "Thanks for staying home tonight," Claudia found herself saying, leaning against the banister.

"And miss out on story time?" Pete smiled. "Never."

She kissed his cheek. Smiled. Not all love had to be like a fairy tale.


End file.
